Karen Restivo
In Other Words....
The path to authentic power is to align your personality with the intentions of your soul.
Gary Zukav
Depending on how far along you are on your journey in life, there are some critical moments in your growth that may need to be re-evaluated.
I promise there is no scorecard found at the end of this article. Based on my background of seven years at Holy Rosary Catholic School, I’ve come to understand that when told, “God was the policeman in the sky keeping an eye on our sins,” the phrase was only an analogy utilized to make students understand their accountability for good and bad behaviors. During high school religious education, foundational faith curriculum moved to a complex theology fostering a more mature understanding of faith.
In college, I was blessed to finish my undergrad with more than fifty hours at University of St. Thomas, and during my matriculation, was required to take varied courses such as world religions, philosophy and metaphysics etc., to complete my course of studies.
The courses I reluctantly agreed to complete turned out to be the cherry on top of all my studies.
With my degree in psychology/philosophy, the tools gathered along the way in my proverbial tool kit, well-worn by continual use in strengthening and tightening my grasp on lessons learned during life stages, lead me to the discovery of my life’s purpose.
Granted, I’m a late bloomer coming to this realization at my age; but hey, some folks never find out what their job description was here at earth school.
In the Cliff Notes version of my journey, the key realization is that every part of my life, the good and the bad, were part of my growth curriculum.
Frankly, more growth occurs during failures and mistakes than during joyful times in life.
Branden Collinsworth (@brandencollinsworth on Instagram) created a dialog between himself and all his broken parts throughout his life stages.
Below, Branden sets the stage for us as he’s sitting down with all his broken parts at various ages.
Come along and listen in on Branden’s Version of Me:
Branden, “I don’t remember calling this meeting. But here we are. A table I never sat at, filled with faces I know too well.
Some I haven’t seen in years. Some I tried to forget. Some I swore I’d never become. But tonight, no one is turned away.
We are all here. Facing each other. Ready to finally listen.
The child who dreamed without fear. The teenager who ached to be understood.
The one who loved too hard. The one who swore they’d never love again. The one who made mistakes. The one who could have done more.
The addict. The healer. The fighter. The ghost. The one who forgave. And the one who didn’t make it. They’ve all arrived.
The younger me swings their legs, wide-eyed. “Is this what we became?” they ask. “Did we make it?”
I want to say yes. I want to say we got everything we ever wanted. But I have learned not to lie to myself.
“We are still becoming I say. And for some reason, that answer is enough.
“The one who made mistakes looks down.
“We messed up,” they say. “We should have known better.” Across the table, the one who paid the price answers.
“We didn’t know until we knew.” The silence between them is thick. I hold them both in my gaze.
“Maybe we were meant to be both,” I say.
“The ones who tried, and the ones who failed.” Neither of them speak again. The one who could have done more watches from the corner.
“We held back,” they say. “We played small when we could have been great.”
The one who was too afraid to leap lowers their head. “I was scared,” they whisper. “I know,” I say. “But we are not done yet.”
Something between them softens. The one who loved and lost grips the edges of the table.
“I gave everything,” they say. “And it still wasn’t enough.” The one who swore they’d never love again tightens their jaw. “That’s why I built the walls.”
I looked at both. “We had to love, and we had to lose.” “We had to break, and we had to rebuild.” Neither answer. But they are finally looking at each other. The one who almost didn’t make it is quiet.
“How did we survive?” they whisper. “I was sure this was the end.” I reach across the table, take their hands. “Because of you,” I say. “Because you broke, but you never stopped breathing.”
They close their eyes, exhaling years of silence.
The one who died and never came back sits in the shadows. They say nothing. They are barely there.
“I miss you,” I whisper. “We all do.” They don’t speak. They only nod. Some losses are too deep for words.
(To be continued next week…) In other words, this article holds metaphysical tools to help us awaken and to embrace how each of us is so very loved.
It simply must be a limited series. Until next week…
Karenrestivo57@gmail.com